


On Love: Agape

by renaissance



Series: side effects [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 13:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/pseuds/renaissance
Summary: Yuri flies all the way to Hasetsu to drag Viktor home. It doesn't go as he planned.(To be read after chapter 3 ofit's the side effects that save us.)





	On Love: Agape

**Author's Note:**

> please make sure you've read chapter 3 of the main fic before reading this!

Yuri hates it when people tell him he’s reckless, that he never plans ahead and just thinks without acting, but he hates it even more when they’re _right_ , when he’s in the thick of it already and he has no idea what to do next but go off his instincts. His instincts have already failed him once this morning, passing through a market and buying a sick sweatshirt and uploading a selfie in it onto Insta—he’s reckless, but he’s not fucking stupid; he bought a Japanese SIM card at Fukuoka airport.

His recklessness costs him his anonymity, and Yakov is screaming in his ear not a minute later. This would be fine, except Yakov didn’t tell him a fucking thing about where Viktor is, and that’s who Yuri’s come here to track down, after all.

So Yuri resorts to plan B: walking up and down the streets of Hasetsu shouting Viktor’s name. It’s not elegant, nor efficient, but it nets him results not half an hour into his adventures; a fisherman by the pier recognises Viktor’s name, says something in Japanese, and points Yuri in a direction. Yuri takes the point of his finger as gospel and power-walks—never runs—to his destination.

Eventually, he finds a rink. He knows it’s a rink because, blessedly, the words “ICE CASTLE” are in English, and what other type of building would be called an ice castle in a shitty little small town like this? That, and it’s crowded by reporters. They could only be here for one person.

Yuri shoves his way past the reporters, and he’s stopped by three identical girls, hands out in front of them. One of them says something in Japanese that sounds like what _piss off_ feels like—don’t they know who Yuri is? This is an ice rink. They _should_ know who he is.

Oh, right. The hoodie. He pulls his hood down, and _then_ recognition dawns. They don’t speak to him in English, but somehow they manage to communicate that Yuri can go inside. They look starstruck. As they should.

Inside the building, the front desk is staffed by a really pretty woman whose eyes go really wide when she sees Yuri.

“Hey! I’m looking for Viktor Nikiforov!” He says it in English, because he figures that if the sign outside is in English then the staff probably speak it too.

“You—you’re Yuri Plisetsky,” she says.

“Damn right I am,” he says. “I’m looking for Viktor.”

“He’s not here,” the woman stammers.

She looks so shocked—oh, god, what if she’s one of _those_ fans? Yuri won’t get out alive. But, then her posture relaxes, and she smiles.

“Do you have skates? I guess so, if you’re here to train with Yuuri and Viktor. Yuuri is here already, so you can go on in and get started. Viktor is probably sleeping in… he really overdid it last night!”

Yuri narrows his eyes at her. “Overdid it? He was drinking with Katsuki?”

“Oh, no,” the woman says, laughing, “Yuuri is much too responsible for that.”

Responsible? Katsuki? Yuri would beg to differ, but he keeps that to himself, because this is Katsuki’s hometown after all, and Yuri doesn’t have a fucking death wish.

“I’m Yuuko, by the way,” she continues. “My family owns the rink, so we’re always here to help if you need anything, like food, or translation.”

“Thanks,” Yuri says. He always sounds so harsh when he says thank you, but it’s just how his voice sounds. He hopes Yuuko knows he’s at least _trying_ to be sincere, even if he doesn’t really know how to deal with sincerity in kind. “I’m gonna go and say hi to Katsuki.”

Katsuki is on the ice already, skating figures. Yuri doesn’t say anything. Watching Katsuki like this—no nerves to get in his way, none of the pressure and tacky glamour of an international competition—it’s like how he was at the banquet, but calmer, graceful. Yuri isn’t some hero-worshipping loser, not like Katsuki around Viktor, but his pulse races anyway.

Then Katsuki stills, makes eye contact with Yuri for all of a second, and falls on his face.

Katsuki stumbles to his feet and skates to the barrier. “Yuri? What are you—”

“I’m here for Viktor,” Yuri says, “not you.”

This is the duality of Yuuri Katsuki: one moment he’s so awkward he can barely keep himself upright, and the next he’s smirking down at Yuri and saying, “Pity, I thought maybe you wanted a rematch.”

Yuri springs back like he’s been slapped. “You may have won in Sochi, but you sure as hell didn’t win that dance-off, and you’re not going to win once I make my senior debut—”

“Come on, Yuri,” Katsuki says, “I don’t want to argue about next season so long before it’s even begun. Anyway, I won that dance-off fair and square, and you know it.”

“Did not,” Yuri says petulantly. “You were drunk, anyway.”

Katsuki leans on the barrier, all casual. “And I still managed to wipe the floor with you.” He sighs. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Well I’m not here to be your fucking friend,” Yuri says. “We’re rivals. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He’s serious. He’s hear to drag Viktor back to Russia kicking and screaming—never mind his fucking crush—and get the kind of choreography that’ll win him the season. Annoyingly, though, Katsuki doesn’t look too daunted. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but—

—that’s when Viktor shows up.

 

* * *

 

Viktor is—he’s not how Yuri expected him to be. He had been under the impression that he knew Viktor, and knew him fairly well too, or at least a lot better than most people who claimed to know him. But now it’s like he’s a different person, not the Viktor Yuri knew back in Russia.

Maybe that’s why Yuri says, “If I win, you give up on Katsuki and come back to Russia to be _my_ coach.”

He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t _think_ he means it.

But then Viktor says, “I accept,” and after that, all bets are off. He’s going to play to win. Yuri stops thinking about whether he _means_ it or not, and just skates, skates like he’s skating for his life. He came all the way out here. He’s not going to let something as trivial as the way Viktor looks at Katsuki when he doesn’t think anyone else can see put him off his goal.

“Technically, it’s perfect.”

That’s all Viktor has to say after their first full day of practice. _Technically_.

“Practically?” Yuri demands.

Viktor taps a finger against his lips. “Well, it needs something… _more_. You can’t keep drilling your technical skills without paying any attention to the musicality of the piece. That’s what’s so great about Yuuri’s skating!”

Yuri has come to the unfortunate realisation that every time Viktor says _Yuuri_ , he means Katsuki. _Yuuri_ skates like he’s making music, but he can’t do a quad sal, so Yuri doesn’t really understand what the big deal is.

“If you want to compete on the same level as him,” Viktor continues, “you need to understand the music for this to be truly perfect.”

“Whatever.” Yuri shrugs. “I’ll listen to it tonight.”

“I find listening to music while I fall asleep helps me really internalise it,” Viktor says.

Yuri spares him a scowl. “That’s what my tutor always tells me to do. Read my textbooks before bed. You’re not original, old man.”

“My tutor used to tell me that too,” Viktor says. “Wow! It’s been ten years since I had to do schoolwork, I’d almost forgotten.”

“Like you forgot your promise to me?” Yuri snaps.

That does the trick. “I’m going to work with Yuuri, now,” he says. “Make sure you concentrate on the musicality, Yurio!”

Yuri isn’t going to concentrate on the musicality. What does Viktor know, anyway? Viktor’s not a real fucking coach, he’s just playing at it because of his crush on the loser who got drunk and seduced him at an ISU banquet. And that’s another thing; Katsuki is different too. There’s none of the wild indifference to social expectations that had very nearly endeared him to Yuri back in Sochi—he’s just shy, skittish, and he apologises every time he comes close to making any sort of joke.

Katsuki skates on the other side of the rink—Yuri stopped short of drawing a line down the middle, but he was sorely tempted, and now he watches as Viktor skates over to Katsuki, arms spread wide. Katsuki extends an arm, and they meet in a perfectly spontaneous twirl, Katsuki spinning Viktor around him, laughing. Yuri looks away.

When he turns back, tries to focus, he sees Yuuko by the barrier. “How are things, Yuri?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

He comes off a little sharp, so he skates over to the barrier to let Yuuko know he doesn’t really mean it that way.

Yuuko shakes her head, smiling. “Ah, I suppose I have nothing to worry about. You’re settling in just fine.”

“Thanks,” Yuri blurts. “I mean—for worrying.”

“If you ever need anything,” Yuuko says, “you have to tell me, okay? Or if my girls are bothering you too much… I know they can come on strong, but they’re big fans. We all are.”

“I didn’t expect this to be a figure skating town,” Yuri says. “It’s okay. Is Katsuki—”

He stops, thinks the better of it.

But Yuuko is curious. “Is he… ?”

“Is he always like this?” Yuri asks. “Shy?”

“Ah, Yuuri is _very_ shy,” Yuuko says, “but don’t let that fool you. He’s very competitive, too. He’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

Yuri nods. That makes sense—and at least someone in this fucking place is willing to talk to him without layers of teasing and metaphor.

“I won’t get complacent.”

 

* * *

 

Further evidence that Viktor is a terrible coach: his idea of helping Yuri get in touch with his inner _agape_ —whatever the fuck that means—is banning him from skating his programme in full, forcing him to take time off the rink entirely and go for jogs, and getting him to stand under a waterfall and meditate. And because Viktor must really hate Yuri, he makes Katsuki do all of this too.

“I’m never taking another shower in my _life_ ,” Yuri spits. He really does spit it out, watches the way his spit flies into the water that’s splashing off the top of his head and disappears. He is furious. So furious that he can’t even think about the things he really loves unconditionally, like his grandpa, and his grandpa’s pirozhki.

“It is kinda silly, isn’t it?” Katsuki says.

“Kinda silly? Fucking understatement. It’s fucking stupid.”

Katsuki leans back into the water, shutting his eyes. He probably can’t see shit without his glasses. “It might not make sense to us, but we have to trust Viktor’s motivations,” he says.

There’s an idiom Yuri heard once for exactly this situation. He says, “I wouldn’t trust Viktor as far as I can throw him. He fucked off from Saint Petersburg without fulfilling his promise to me. He doesn’t have _motivations_ , just—” another idiom, “—flights of fucking fancy.”

“He kept his promise to me,” Katsuki says, very quietly.

“Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to keep fucking meditating?” Yuri asks.

Katsuki is silent for a few moments. Then, he says, “I’m going to keep meditating.”

“Fine,” Yuri says, “be like that. I still say this is stupid. Viktor isn’t a real coach. This isn’t teaching me anything.”

“He really doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Katsuki says suddenly, laughing. “He’s making it up as he goes along!”

“Thinks he’s so clever, doesn’t he?” Yuri says.

“He’s really ditzy,” Katsuki says. “I had no idea. I expected him to be more… I don’t know. Well, we were both drunk when we met, so I suppose that I didn’t get a good picture of what he’s like. But I thought he’d act more like an international superstar, you know?”

Yuri’s smirk drops abruptly. “He was always like that. He never—it was like he didn’t let anyone know who he was. He was exactly the same as in all his interviews. Fucking untouchable, right? But now he’s all… _happy_. All the fucking time.”

“It must be the air,” Katsuki says. “Hasetsu is good to people like that.”

“Idiot,” Yuri says. “It’s because of _you_.”

Katsuki blushes bright red. He opens his mouth to reply but he ends up inhaling water by mistake, crouching down to his knees, coughing. Yuri waits patiently for him to be done before speaking.

“What, don’t tell me that comes as a surprise?”

“You didn’t have to put it so plainly,” Katsuki says.

Yuri rolls his eyes. If he didn’t, no-one would.

After that, though, he really does try to mediate. It’s not easy, when Katsuki keeps looking at him out of the corner of his eyes and Yuri has to bite his lip to stop from laughing, but it gets more calming as the day wears on. Eventually, around lunchtime, Viktor emerges from wherever he’s been off sunning himself. He’s carrying a laden plastic bag that Yuri sure as hell hopes has food in it.

“Good afternoon!” he calls, waving. “How was the meditation?”

Yuri is about to say something, but Katsuki beats him to it, stepping out of the waterfall and into the shallows of the pool between them and Viktor.

“Eye-opening.”

“Your third eye, I hope,” Viktor says, leaning forward to poke Katsuki in the forehead with his free hand.

“I don’t know how standing perfectly still and getting soaking wet is supposed to improve my sense of _eros_ ,” Katsuki says. He sticks his arms out in front of him. “Help me out of here, and let’s eat quickly. I’m ready to go back to the rink.”

“Of course, Yuuri.”

Viktor puts down the plastic bag and takes both of Katsuki’s hands in his, helping him up onto dry land. Katsuki staggers a bit and Viktor is there in an instant to steady him, both of them laughing like this is somehow conducive to a good training session. Leaning forward, Viktor whispers something in Katsuki’s ear, and Katsuki laughs even louder.

 _Oh_ , Yuri thinks. _Agape_.

 

* * *

 

Before Yuri skates, Katsuki puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard to be up first,” he says. “Good luck.”

“Says you,” Yuri says. “This way, I’m the hard act to follow.”

Katsuki doesn’t even crack a smile. He looks scared shitless.

Yuri adds, “You’ll be fine.”

Katsuki is not fine. He disappears after he’s finished skating, and Onsen on Ice fizzles to an end, just like that. The rink is ringing with applause but there’s no-one there to soak it up, because Katsuki is gone, and Viktor runs after him, and Yuri can’t deal with it, so he goes into one of the changing rooms and kicks a bench over, letting out his anger in one short, sharp burst.

The bench topples over. It is not as satisfying as Yuri thought it would be.

He _won_. He won fair and square; even though Viktor stacked all of Katsuki’s jumps in the second half, it wasn’t enough. If this was a real competition, there’s no way Katsuki’s performance would’ve come _close_ to Yuri’s. Yuri won, which means Viktor is going to come back to Russia with him and coach him.

So why doesn’t it feel like a victory?

Yuri sinks to his knees, careful not to damage the costume he’s borrowed from Katsuki, and—he doesn’t _cry_ , not really, but he does cover his face with his hands and screw his eyes up really tight until he sees pinpricks in his vision.

He’s not so out of it that he doesn’t hear footsteps coming into the changing room, though, and a moment later he hears Yuuko call his name.

“Yuri? Are you okay?”

“We made a deal,” Yuri says. He rocks backwards so that he’s sitting on the cold tile floor. He knows Yuuko is somewhere behind him, but he doesn’t look. “Katsuki wanted it to be a competition. So he said that if he wins, Viktor would stay coaching him for the whole of the next season. And I said that if I win, Viktor would come back to Russia with me, and be _my_ coach. But I—”

“It’s okay,” Yuuko says, kneeling next to him. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“I don’t want him to come back with me,” Yuri says. This time, he knows he means it. “He’s happier here.”

Yuuko puts an arm around Yuri’s shoulders. He doesn’t have any siblings, never really thought about what it might be like, but in that moment he wishes he had a big sister, someone like Yuuko, understanding and eternally patient, who’ll help him talk it out when things get tough.

“Why don’t you tell him that yourself?” she says.

The one thing Yuri hasn’t done since he came to Hasetsu, not even once, is tell Viktor he’s happy for him. He’s happy that Viktor’s found someone who makes his eyes light up, that he’s found some meaning in his life after being a competitive figure skater and after Makkachin’s death. He doesn’t want Viktor to fulfil his promise, not anymore. He’s just pissed off that it took him a not-insignificant amount of money and a trip all the way to Japan to find out _why_ Viktor never fulfilled his promise, but that can’t really be helped, not now. Now, all Yuri can do is make things right.

“Yeah,” Yuri says. “I should tell him.”

Yuuko waits for him to get changed, and then she helps him sneak past reporters and out the back of Ice Castle Hasetsu, points him in the right direction.

“We’ve all loved having you here. You’ll come back, won’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri says. This may be the place where Viktor found himself, but all the things Yuri loves unconditionally are back in Russia.

Yuuko doesn’t say anything to that, but Yuri knows she understands.

There’s a light rain falling and Yuri is damp by the time he gets back to the resort. He stands in the doorway and shakes it off. Viktor and Katsuki aren’t there—a moment later, Yuri realises this is because they’re lying on the floor beside one of the dining tables, fast asleep. Viktor has his head resting on Katsuki’s chest, curled around him like a dog, and the other Viktor—the actual dog—is lying at Katsuki’s other side.

Yuri hates to wake them, but he needs to get this off his chest. He clears his throat.

A moment later, Viktor stirs. He sits up, rubs his eyes, and only then he notices Yuri. “Oh. You’re back.”

“I’m back,” Yuri says uselessly. “Um. I wanted to say—about the ultimatum—”

“No, let me speak first,” Viktor says. “I’m sorry I let you and Yuuri make that bargain, but I can no longer accept your terms. I have to—I’m staying, Yurio. I have to stay.”

Yuri almost yells, but then he remembers that Katsuki’s still sleeping. “You _bastard_!” he hisses. “You keep going back on promises! Don’t you have a bone of integrity in your worthless body?”

Viktor smiles darkly. “Apparently not.”

“Well, fuck you,” Yuri says, “because I came here to tell you that I don’t _want_ you to come back to Russia.”

“Aw, Yurio, don’t you like me anymore?”

“No, I—”

 _Tell him_ , whispers a voice at the back of Yuri’s head.

“—I’m happy for you,” he says. “For you and Katsuki. And you should do what makes you happy, not what anyone else wants you to do. So I want you to stay.”

Viktor’s shoulders sag, and his expression melts into something warm and genuine. “Thank you,” he says. Then, he smirks wickedly.  “But didn’t you just say I shouldn’t do what anyone else wants me to?”

He is _infuriating_ —some things never really change.

 

* * *

 

Katsuki comes by Yuri’s room while he’s packing the next morning. “I heard Viktor told you what happened.”

“He didn’t need to,” Yuri says. “I wasn’t really going to make him leave.”

“He told me that too,” Katsuki says. He pauses, biting his lip. “Thank you.”

Yuri shrugs. “Whatever. Not my problem. You sorted it out without me.”

“I guess we’ll go back to being rivals now,” Katsuki says. “It’s weird, but… I was almost getting used to having you around.”

“The feeling is _not_ mutual,” Yuri says. “Get ready to get your ass kicked in the Grand Prix Series. Are we gonna do this over? _Agape_ versus _Eros_ , the ultimate smackdown.”

Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, let’s do that. This time, I’m going to win.”

“You wish,” Yuri says. “Oh—your costume—”

“Keep it,” Katsuki says. “It wouldn’t fit me anymore, and it suits you well. Really.”

“Thanks.”

“Think of it as a souvenir.” Katsuki has the nerve to smile at Yuri. “See you around, Yurio.”

It’s still a dumb nickname, but it doesn’t raise Yuri’s hackles like it did before. He smiles back.

“See you, Yuuri.”

**Author's Note:**

> (before you ask, yes, there is going to be an "On Love: Eros" later in the series)


End file.
